


with a past left behind

by thermocline



Category: Captain Marvel (2019), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Canon Compliant, Extended Scene, F/F, Fluff, Getting Back Together, Post-Canon, Pre-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-08
Updated: 2019-03-08
Packaged: 2019-11-13 17:48:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18035999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thermocline/pseuds/thermocline
Summary: She looks at Maria, and the photos of those lost years, and it aches that she ever forgot them.





	with a past left behind

**Author's Note:**

> i'm just screamin real loud don't mind me!
> 
> THIS HAS SPOILERS. DUH.
> 
> title is from "forever endeavor" by the altogether, a very wholesome love song. the working title for this google doc was 'carol they're lesbians.' enjoy!

“Here’s you and me last Halloween,” Monica says, eyes shining and Carol -  
  
She knows. She looks at Maria, and those lost years, and it aches that she ever forgot them.  
  
Maria catches her eye, as Monica produces envelope upon envelope of photos. Some are worn at the edges, some letterboxed by a polaroid frame with the date written at the bottom. She smiles, hapless, and Carol lets Monica keep talking. It’s so much, knowing it wasn’t just her, that these people loved her all along. And like, she has her suspicions. It’s hard not to, with the phantom tug she feels in her heart, the softness when she looks at Maria now, in a kitchen of a home Carol knows, somewhere deep, like the back of her hand.  
  
When Monica pushes a photo across the table of Carol and Maria slow dancing in the Rambeaus’ kitchen in ‘83, Carol goes quiet. Suspicions. Not so suspicious after all.  
  
“Monica,” Fury starts, gentle but firm. Carol’s eyes don’t leave Maria. “Can you come help me track down Goose? I think he snuck out to the shed.”  
  
Monica jumps up, setting the pile of photos down on the table next to her, and fist bumps Fury on her way out the side door.  
  
“You weren’t gonna say anything?” Carol says. Her voice is too shaky to her own ears. “Like. Not that I’m mad, but.”  
  
“I didn’t wanna overwhelm you,” Maria answers; measured, slow.  
  
“How long?”  
  
Maria shakes her head. Exhales. Her shoulders shake, just enough that someone who wasn’t looking wouldn’t catch it.  
  
“I had Monica. He walked out. You stepped in.”  
  
Carol doesn’t know whether to lean in or away. “I’m sorry,” she whispers.  
  
It doesn’t really matter what it’s for. It’s for everything and nothing. For the whole amnesia thing. For the asshole who’d think to walk out on Maria. For not being there to see Monica through the rest of elementary school.  
  
Fuck, Carol missed _so_ much.  
  
“You’re here,” Maria says, and it sounds like a version of _it’s alright_ .  
  
++

  
See, the thing is, Carol could ask her to try again. Maria should be allowed to hope, after all that loss, all that secrecy. 

  
But now, they have work to do, and they’ve gotta make it out alive.  
  
Maria saunters over to check on them, Talos’ science guy chatting away as he works on engine mods for the jet. He’s welding alarmingly fast. Perks of being an alien, Maria guesses.  
  
Carol has filled out quite a bit since their academy days. She’s clearly been training like crazy, if the way she casually picks up hunks of metal to pass to the man – skrull – at work in Maria’s garage is anything to go by. Maria misses Carol’s strong arms like hell. She misses her stubbornness like hell. And her smile, god. Maria’s never been the poetic type, but Carol’s smile is megawatt.

(Not as much as her fists, nowadays, but you know, technicalities.)

 It’s hard to look at Carol and not see their first fumbling kiss on a dirt road outside the base, to not immediately start paying attention to the soft curve of her waist under the cut-up tank top she’s borrowing as she plays mechanic for the first time in what could be years.

(Yes, years. For all Maria knows, they could just have AIs to do their repairs for them on Hala.)

Carol probably gets to sleep in now, angel-blond hair fanned around her pillow, cussing loudly as she stirs until she realizes there wasn’t an alarm to worry about in the first place. She probably still clings to the same well-worn briefs that Maria got her from a local clothing brand like a lifeline. She might even start seeing them now and thinking of Maria again. 

The point is that Maria’s still in deep, when it comes to Carol.

Having your former partner walk out of your dreams like some Sapphic ex machina will do that, though.

 

++

 

When they get back down to Earth, Maria tugs Carol into her sleepy house – _their_ goddamn sleepy house – and kisses her firmly. Carol kisses back, holds Maria’s jaw in her hands, careful to tamper down the electricity still buzzing through her body so as not to startle her.

They fit together in a way Carol swears to remember, this time around.

“Hey,” she says, pulling back, and lets Maria stroke her cheek, feels her smile turn soft and gooey as Maria beams at her. “Thanks for being my best pilot.”

“Like I’d ever fucking leave you,” Maria says, and kisses Carol’s cheek again, as if to make sure she’s real. Carol’s heart just about hammers out of her chest.

“Is it okay if I can’t stay?” Carol finds herself blurting out, all in a rush. Her voice is thick. Maria presses their foreheads together, and Carol pulls her close.

 “You’ve got a hell of a lot more finding to do,” Maria says. Her hold on Carol feels so pleasantly tight that Carol could choke on it. “But you better stay the night.”

Carol pulls back, looks at the way Maria’s face crinkles into a laugh. She’s so strong. She’s such a good mother, and pilot, and leader, and woman, and person. God, she’s gonna take over the world one day, and Carol’s gonna watch from the clouds.

It’s giddy, surreal, this mess of feelings she didn’t know she had surging to the surface and pouring out all at once. Carol closes her eyes and breathes into the sensation of being close to someone.

When she thinks she’s finally got a hold of it, ready to start unraveling everything that’s pushing at her subconscious, Maria kisses her again, and everything else falls away.

 

++

 

Carol leaves – out of necessity, to finish up the skrull mission – the next evening. Monica sees her off, bomber jacket and all, and runs and envelops Maria’s waist the second that Carol’s out of sight among the stars.

“Momma,” she whispers, in a way Maria doesn’t hear unless something hits her particularly hard. “Carol’s more than an auntie, right?" 

“You know she is,” Maria answers. She’s old enough to have it figured out. Maria doesn’t have to baby her, really. “Why are you so concerned with it?”

Monica’s quiet, her eyes to the stars. Her curls brush Maria’s chin. God, she’s growing so fast.

“I don’t know,” Monica starts, then stops again. “She’s just – like a mom, you know? Like, not you, obviously, but the co-pilot.” 

Maria laughs, watery. “She’s something else, Carol is.”

The magnolia trees rustle back to her as if to laugh in response.

“She’ll be back, right?”

When Maria pulls back, she sees Monica just as bright eyed, just as eager as when she’d laid out the photos on their kitchen table and started telling Carol all about their old life, as if no time had passed at all.

If Maria said she didn’t share her worry, she’d be lying through her teeth. Carol’s bigger than them, now, but –

“I’ve always known Carol to come home, even if it’s after curfew,” Maria say, by way of an answer. Monica beams.

They stand outside for a long time, letting the humid breeze soften the ache of departure.

Once they’re inside, Maria lets her scoop ice cream for the both of them, on the promise that she’ll clean the guest room now that Fury’s hit the road as well.

The house seems quiet, without guests, without Goose trawling around underfoot.

Maria picks the calendar up off the wall, and draws a star on today’s box, then another, eight days away.

 

++

 

Seven days later, Carol crashes in the front door, dusty and red-faced, demanding iced tea.

“Someone’s early for once,” Maria says, and Carol gives her an affectionate glare before bending over the dining table to kiss her sweetly, sweaty space-rough hands and all.

There’s a crash in the hallway as Monica barrels into the room, shrieking like a banshee.

"I knew you’d be back,” Monica proclaims against Carol’s chest as Carol envelops her.

Maria smiles, catching Carol’s eyes before standing to grab the pitchers from the fridge.

It’s no domestic life, but it’s enough. It’s the least she can do to show the woman who she kept waiting how much she still cares.

 


End file.
